i’m forgetting
all the words of
my favourite songs.
i pray in silence
as i walk. i’m not
in any hurry.
there are fewer
conversations
between us now.
sometimes silence
makes it simpler;
though not easier.
everything requires
more effort from me.
i’m prepared to give.
i haven’t read
a good book
in a long time.
lately, there is
only poetry. and
not enough of it.
i want for beauty.
language that lifts
off the page.--
burnt offerings
that fill my belly,
turn me to ashes.
o, that i could
remember each word
that moves me.
but there’s no point.
i’d only remember
the arguments.
so here’s a flower.
i have nothing else left.
let that be the end of it.
